


Revenge is Sweet

by irishlullaby13



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon is dead and buried in my backyard, Cheating, F/M, cheating spouses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-24 11:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16639376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: We could do revenge, revenge, revenge, revengeTogether, together, together





	1. Revenge is Sweet

Ichabod crept down the street in his car, taking care to keep himself from being seen. His headlights were turned off for extra precaution as he moved along the curb. And the distance set of tail lights pulled into a driveway.

For a moment he was taken aback. _Just why the hell was Katrina going to Bram's house this late at night?_

Oh he knew why. He'd be a fool not to know by now. A fool in deep denial. However a fool in deep denial he was not. He was simply confirming something he already knew.

_Katrina was having an affair._

He had known she was having affair, he just had not known with whom. But now it was clear as freshly cleaned glass. To make matters worse, Bram was also married. While Ichabod had yet to meet the woman, he still felt for her.

Ichabod had come to America before his friend had. He had met Katrina and they had gotten married long before Abraham had moved over. Hadn't been long before Bram had found himself a nice American Girl and made a wife of her.

Four years. Various work schedules had kept Ichabod from actually meeting the illustrious Grace Abigail in person. Bram and his wife had simply engaged in a courtroom wedding with only the courthouse staff in attendance… because Grace Abigail had needed to work later that night. This was despite knowing Bram was financially comfortable enough that she need not work.

Oh, it was by no means the first time Bram had had an affair. Nor was it the first time Katrina had. But never had he figured they would cheat with each other. He thought he had known both of them much better than that.

He watched Katrina get out of her car and hurry to the entry door. Moments later it opened and Bram pulled her into the door. Ichabod eased the car further down the lane until he was almost directly in front of the house. 

Even though the lights were low, he could still very clearly see Bram and Katrina in a lover's embrace. He sucked in a breath and pushed the car door open. This was ending right here, right now. 

He wasn't going to do anything violent as that was not his style. But he was very much going to let Katrina know she needed to get her belongings out of their house.

And he would have done precisely what he had planned to do, had he not been thrown to the ground and handcuffed. “I swear to God if you fucked this up I am going to end you,” a stern feminine voice growled near his ear. 

“I beg your par--” the rest of his exclamation was muffled by hand over his mouth.

“I have been working on this for six months,” she snapped. “Get in the bushes before you mess things up.”

The assailant gave him little to no choice in the matter as he found himself being hauled up roughly and shoved into the bushes. Much to his surprise he also found himself staring up at a petite black woman that embodied Authority.

She spared him only a momentary glance before turning around and kneeling down with a camera in hand. “I've been trying to catch this guy in the middle of an affair for the past year. He got reckless in the last six months with this floozy,” she grumbled.

“That _floozy_ is my wife,” Ichabod stated.

“All the more reason to stop you from doing something stupid,” the woman retorted. “I'll make sure to compensate you when I get the big payday from this.”

Ichabod struggled to right himself on the ground, despite his hands being cuffed behind his back. “Big payday? What do you mean?”

“His wife has a really nice prenup with a clause that involves him having an affair,” the woman said. 

“And she hired you to collect this information?” Ichabod asked.

“I guess you could say that.” The woman stopped snapping pictures for a moment to offer her hand. “Abbie Mills, private investigator.”

Ichabod cocked his head and gave her a sarcastic glare. “I would shake your hand and introduce myself but I am currently handcuffed.”

Abbie side and sit down her camera. She made a gesture for him to turn around. As soon as he had, he heard the handcuff lock click open and he was freed. When he turned back toward Abbie he took her hand and bowed over it. “Ichabod Crane.”

“Nice to meet you Ichabod Crane,” Abbie said sweetly. She picked up her camera and resumed her task. “So tell me, did your parents hate you?”

“Oh that's one I never heard before,” Ichabod huffed. “Do your parents know you're a bully?”

Abbie shrugged. “I take that as a yes,” she chuckled.

“I was named for my great grandfather, thank you,” Ichabod replied. “It's an honour to bare his name.”

“So how long did it take your parents to convince you of that?” Abbie asked, shooting him a playful grin. She laughed when he gave her a flat look. “Sorry. Just trying to make lite of the situation. Not every day I drag the spouse of the floozy into the adventure.”

Ichabod peered over the bushes. “What are they doing?”

Abbie cocked a brow. “You sure you want that answer?” When he nodded, she handed over the camera and nodded toward the house. “Far right window, living room.”

After taking a breath, Ichabod raised and aimed the camera. And immediately regretted it. He thrust the camera back into Abbie's hands. “Add that to the things I regret witnessing,” Ichabod sighed, trying to mentally dislodge the image of Bram bending Katrina over the sofa as he took her from behind. 

“Definitely having an affair,” Abbie murmured. Her camera clicked a couple more times. She looked toward the house and sighed heavily. Sadness washed over her features.

“I know it must dishearten you to know there are two lives being harmed by this,” Ichabod stated. 

“Yeah,” Abbie sighed. She gazed toward the house, scoffed and shook her head. “Especially since Bram is my husband.” She sat down hard on the ground and started breaking down her camera. She glanced up. “What?”

Ichabod blinked at her in surprise. “You're… Bram's wife?”

Abbie nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She sniffled softly. “Sorry. I didn't plan on company tonight.”

“It's okay to cry,” Ichabod said gently, he reached out and placed his hand over hers.

She shook her head, solidifying her resolve to not cry “Not here,” she said. “Mind giving me a lift to the borough?”

“Not at all,” Ichabod replied. 

“Besides, you'll ruin everything if your wife sees your car right across the damn street.” Abbie sniffled again but laughed.

#

Abbie was trying to hold herself together. 

When she had started her mission, she had tried to be objective. She tried to have the same mindset she took when working for a client. Bram was just another scumbag, cheating husband.

She had planned to take an Uber back to her car at the borough. Cry on her way to Mabie's. Then have apple pie ala mode to make herself feel better, before calling Bram to see if he needed her to pick anything up on the way home.

What she had not planned on was running into the spouse of The Other Woman. Nor had she planned on barely being able to keep it together as he drove her back to her car. Angry helped her keep from crying in front of this near complete stranger.

“I knew he was a player when I met him, that’s why I got the prenup. I wanted to make sure he couldn’t take my house if we ever got divorced,” Abbie sighed, staring out the window. “He tried to talk me out of it. The prenup. He signed it and everything but then tried to convince me not to file it.”

Ichabod hummed curiously. “If you knew, why did you marry him,” he asked.

“Funny story,” Abbie chuckled. “We had been dating for about three weeks. Apparently some uncle or auntie died and left him a big fortune, _if he got married_. One of his cousins told me. Gave me a little nudge wink and said I should get a prenup to make sure I’m taken care of in case it doesn’t work out. To this day I don’t know if he knows I know about the inheritance.” She studied her fingernails. “He almost had me convinced not to file it. But my lawyer pointed out, if he doesn’t cheat, he’s got nothing to worry about. But since he did, I get a nice fat settlement in the divorce.”

It felt good to unload. 

“You could have gotten divorced once his inheritance was assured,” Ichabod pointed out.

Abbie shrugged. “Things were going good so we wanted to give it a proper try. It’s worked for almost four years.” She looked toward the driver. “So what about you?”

“Katrina and I have been married for six years,” Ichabod said. “It’s not the first time she’s had an affair. The last time she vowed it would never happen again. I made the mistake of believing her.”

When he finished, Abbie got the distinct feeling that was all he was willing to share that moment. She could tell he was internalizing. Normally, that would have been her mode of dealing, but she had been trying not to cry in front of a stranger. Even now it felt like she was fighting a losing battle. She felt stupid. She felt betrayed. She felt like if she didn’t stop running every moment she called to say she was working late, only to be greeted with “Take your time darling, call when you’re on your way so I can have you a plate ready”, through her head she was going to…

Nope. Too late. She was crying.

And not the stoic, solitary tear she normally let herself get away with. It was a full on ugly cry. Complete with drool and snotty nose.

Though she knew things were coming to a head, nothing had prepared her for the reality of seeing it with her own eyes. She rubbed her temples then rubbed her eyes. “God how could I have been so stupid?” she wailed.

She was only moderately aware of the car pulling over until she found herself in a warm embrace. Abbie let herself sob in Ichabod arms as he gently stroked her hair. He didn’t say anything, just let her cry and let her get the evidence of her tears all over his shirt. When her tears dissolved into soft hiccups, Abbie pulled back. Before she could bring her hand up to wipe her eyes, Ichabod was tilting up her chin and lightly dabbing at her cheeks and eyes with a handkerchief. 

Abbie drew in a deep breath. She blinked at him. No trying to fix it? No trying to tell her everything would be okay? Just listening to her and letting her cry? 

Swallowing hard, Abbie sat back in her seat. She sniffled loudly. “Thanks. Sorry about your shirt.”

Ichabod chuckled lightly. “It can be washed. No harm, no foul.”

He regarded her for a moment before pulling back onto the road. Abbie let herself take cleansing breaths. Part of her couldn’t believe someone would cheat on someone like this guy. She wasn’t going to say anything just yet but, his wife had hired her to tail him to try and catch him cheating. Unfortunately, after about two months, she realized he was actually a bit boring. 

The one time she thought she had caught something, it turned out to be a one-sided thing on the other person’s part--and he had seem blissfully unaware. When he had turned up empty, Abbie realized there must have been something the wife was trying to hide. That’s how she ultimately discovered Bram’s affair.

Now she was kind of wondering if Katrina hiring her had been a means of getting her out of the house for them to have their fling. Considering the timing, she was pretty damn sure it was. Obviously Bram thought she was either an idiot or just bad at her job. Maybe both. What else could justify him not realizing she wouldn’t find out?

She was a goddamn private investigator for crying out loud! It was literally her job to follow clues and leads to find out the truth.

When they pulled up to the police borough, Abbie gathered her camera bag and notebook. She paused as she opened the door. “Do you want to join me at Mabie’s for apple pie? It’s my go-to for stressful situations.”

Ichabod stared at her for a moment. “You like Mabie’s?”

Abbie nodded. “Long story but yeah. Love the place.” No matter how often she tried to get Bram to join her at Mabie’s, he never would. And the few times she had managed to get him to darken their doors, he had kept a sour look on his face.

“I would love to join you,” he said softly, giving her a soft smile. 

_Wow_ , she couldn’t help but think. He was actually handsome when he smiled. She wouldn’t go as far as saying he was the sexiest man alive or anything. But he was the kind of annoyingly handsome that made her want to smack him in the face with a 2x4 and tell him to _stop_. She could practically hear her subconscious rolling its eyes and sighing. _Now isn’t the time to be noticing that kind of thing, Abbie_.

She reasoned it was the heartbreak making her not think clearly. Surely the last thing she needed to be doing right now was thinking about having revenge sex with the spouse of the woman that was banging her husband. It could wait until after the divorce was final.

Although, the declination of that particular thought _did_ give her another idea...


	2. Formulating a Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plotting and scheming at Mabie's Diner.

Abigail Mills--or did she go by Van Brunt, he wondered? She had said Mills so he was fit to respect the choice--was a bit of a surprise. She didn't fit the image of what he knew to be Bram's type. Bram had a history of tall, fair-skinned maidens before Ichabod had left London. Abigail was the complete opposite but still absolutely stunning. That much hadn't changed. Bram was always drawn to beautiful. 

It was also surprising that she drove an old, beat up Jeep when he knew, for a fact, Bram was rolling in wealth even without the inheritance from his aunt. Just what the hell was Bram playing at, exactly? 

Besides playing _him_ for a fool.

Also, why was Abigail working? Unless she was the sort that absolutely needed to work to stay sane. She should be enjoying a life of luxury. 

While Ichabod himself was _comfortable_ he was by no means as well off as Bram. Yet he made sure Katrina had whatever she had wanted--big house, new car every year, weekly spa days, and no worrying over needing to work. He hadn't even asked of her to keep house or cook--they had a housekeeper and, more often than not, ordered in for meals.

Then again, he knew Bram was a complete, insufferable _twitter_ so why did none of this actually surprise him? Although, normally Bram couldn't wait to flout his wealth. That much was out of character for him.

Ichabod pulled into a spot next to Abbie's Jeep at Mabie's and hurried out of his car, trying to make it to her door. But he was too slow, by time he reached it, she had pushed it open and was clamouring out.

“Sure you don't mind this place?” Abbie asked.

“I love this place,” he admitted. “I've only managed to lure Katrina here once. She didn't find it nearly as charming as I.”

“Bram hates this place,” Abbie laughed. “He doesn't ask me where I wanted to eat, because I _always_ say Mabie's. So we always just go with what he wants.”

“And you're alright with a lifetime of pesto pasta of every kind?” Ichabod asked with a little smirk.

Abbie groaned and laughed as they entered the establishment. “God, you should see his face when I have the restaurant layer it under an inch of parmesan cheese. And you have no idea how much he hates Olive Garden and that I think it's the best Italian place in Sleepy Hollow.”

“Oh trust me, I’ve heard about it every time,” Ichabod stated. Suddenly his heart ached when Abbie’s laughter faded and she scowled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound…”

Abbie nodded. “It’s alright,” she said stiffly. “I kinda get why he never wanted to take me around any of his friends. I’m not exactly big on the social graces, which probably made him look bad.” She gave the waitress a wave as she moved toward the back corner of the diner. 

She slipped into the corner bench and glanced around cautiously, seeking out the exits. Ichabod eased into the bench across from her. “Hey Mary,” Abbie greeted as the waitress approached. “Can I get a coffee and an apple pie ala mode.”

Mary scowled and clicked her tongue as she scribbled down the order. “Girl, you need to dump that man before you turn _into_ an apple pie ala mode.” She turned toward Ichabod and her eyes lit up. “Hey there Mister Crane. You want your usual too?”

“Yes, please, Miss Mary,” Ichabod replied. He could feel his face warm as Abbie cocked a brow at him. Once the woman wandered away, he ducked his head bashfully. “I was inadvertently introduced to the wonders of seasoned french fries and brown gravy. I haven’t been able to get over it since.”

Abbie gawked playfully. “Why, Mister Crane, are you a poor boy masquerading as a rich man?”

Ichabod shook his head. “Upper middle class upbringing,” he replied. “Sort of teetering at the edge of both but not really belonging to either. Too posh and fancy for the middle class, not classy enough for the upper class. I’m--”

“An english professor at Sarah Lawrence,” Abbie intoned. “You like to hide out in the library during your office hours. The librarian has a thing for you but you don’t seem to notice.”

Ichabod blinked at Abbie. “Miss Corinth? Surely you are mistaken…” He frowned when Abbie shook her head. “I just always assumed she was being helpful.”

“She wants to help you, alright,” Abbie teased. She sighed heavily and tucked her hair behind her ear. “All I have to do is find proof of the account Bram keeps all his inheritance in and bam… I get to open my own office, maybe even hire a secretary.” She gave Ichabod a strange look. “What?”

“You… honestly haven't a clue as to precisely how wealthy your husband is, do you?” Ichabod asked. “The auntie that passed and left him his fortune had a worth, well above and beyond, a few billion.”

Abbie made a strangled sound. “A few what, now?”

Mary returned and placed a cup of coffee in front of Abbie and a glass of water in front of Ichabod along with a straw. “A few billion. With a B.”

“Oh my God,” Abbie gawked. “I don't need that much money.” Ichabod snorted with laughter. “Who needs that much money? What the hell was my lawyer thinking?”

He could already see the gears in Abbie's head turning as she imagined a life of charitable contributions. Good Lord, what had she ever seen in Bram?

_“Crane, how does one go about impressing a lower class bird?”_ he could recall Bram asking him. _“I have this girl--she’s absolutely divine--but when I left it to her to pick a place to dine, she chose this ridiculous hovel at the edge of town. I tried to suggest a place I like and she called it an… fancy, overpriced, Olive Garden.”_

Ichabod had suggested maybe _not_ dating said girl. After all, he knew Bram and his situation. There wasn't anything Bram could do to impress the girl long term without seriously changing who he was. 

Had that girl been Abbie? 

He could remember there being roughly four women Bram had been in casual relationships at the time. But there was one that had Bram actually worried about impressing because _nothing_ seemed to work. 

_“Simplicity isn't in your vocabulary, Bram. That's what it takes to impress ladies of that nature. And for the love of God, never call her low class,” Ichabod had scoffed. “Honestly, it's really best for you to not pursue her.”_

_“You do not understand, Ichabod,” Bram pleaded. “She is like no one I've ever met. She isn't impressed by money or most of the things other girls are. She has a smile that can warm a cold day. I could stare into her eyes for hours… and she shags like a dream.” He nudged Ichabod's shoulder with his own. “Teach me how to be simplistic.”_

_“I'm going to regret this aren't I?”_

He had regretted it from the beginning. But Bram had seemed genuinely interested in the woman. Willing to do whatever it took to win her heart. Even if it meant changing who he was--at the time for the better it seemed. 

Mary returned with their orders, Abbie's face lit up as she picked up her fork. Yes. That was, indeed, a smile which could warm a cold day. Good Lord, what sort of evil had he been responsible for unleashing upon this kind hearted soul?

“I'm sorry,” Ichabod said, as Abbie dug into her pie and ice cream. “I somehow feel it's my fault you are experiencing such heartache.”

Abbie's lips twisted into a pretty smirk. “It's not, trust me. He told me, you know, that he was so used to girls just giving in with ease when he pursued them.” She took a bite. “That he had to ask a friend how to go about 'winning’ my heart. I figure that friend was you?”

“And how did you _figure_ that?”

“You're the only friend he's been avoiding introducing me to,” Abbie replied. “Plus I'm good at reading people. You're the kind of friend that would teach him how to win my heart, hoping it would make him a better person in the process.”

“Evidently it didn't work,” Ichabod commented. “He's still an insufferable, condescending…” 

“Dick,” Abbie provided when Ichabod refused to continue, as she was a lady and one didn't use crass language in front of ladies. “You can say dick. Because he is one.” She held up her thumb and index finger, about an inch between them. “A small one. That gets laughed at and then assured that it's not the size that matters, it's how they use it.”

Ichabod snorted so hard he smelled gravy coming from the wrong direction. He was glad he hadn't been drinking water at the time. It probably would have ended up everywhere. Abbie's eyes danced as she laughed.

When she focused on her pie, Ichabod tilted his head to study her. She was beautiful, yes. Petite and curvaceous. A startling contrast to his friend, who he knew sometimes had a nasty temper. “Bram… never… harmed you, did he?”

Abbie smiled tightly. “Did he ever hit me, you mean?” Ichabod nodded mutely. “He slapped me. Once. Tried the whole ‘I am your husband you will do as I say'... And he quickly learned that it wasn't something he ever wanted to do again. I fucked his ass up and made sure he knew… that if he ever laid a hand on me again, they would never find his body.” She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I used to be a cop, before I got married. The Sheriff is like a father to me. I could make it happen.”

Ichabod sucked in a deep breath and shook his head to clear it. He couldn't explain why the thought of such a diminutive woman, asserting that sort of power made him shift in his seat.

He told himself that he was still a married man and she was still a married woman. It was no time to be having fanciful thoughts of her shoving him down on a bed.

“I just wish there was something we could do… that we could do to have retribution,” Ichabod sighed. 

“You and I could have revenge sex,” Abbie commented. She laughed as Ichabod nearly choked on a fry. “God, you're just too easy.” She shook her head. “Although I do have an idea… if you want to help me with it.”

Ichabod slowly chewed what was in his mouth then swallowed. He cocked a brow. “What did you have in mind?”

  
#  


Abbie was humming as she closed the door and hung up her coat. “Honey, I'm home,” she chimed. Just like she always did when she got home and the lights were still on. She jumped and swatted at Bram when he popped out of the dark dining room, two wine glasses in hand.

“Welcome home, love,” Bram said, handing her a glass as he kissed her cheek. “I actually _just_ finished plating dinner. Delivery was slow tonight.”

“Oh, is that a new cologne?” Abbie asked, catching a whiff of perfume. “Smells nice. I like it. Much better than that stuff you normally use.”

Bram flustered for a moment then nodded, “Yes, just trying out something new. Broadening my horizons, as you like to say. How was scouting out the scandal makers?”

Abbie deposited her camera on the table. She had made sure to stop by Jenny's on her way home to download the photos she took and to clear the memory card. “Kind of boring actually. I'm seriously starting to wonder if it's the wife having an affair and not the husband. This guy is seriously just… work home, work home, work-grocery store-home. But you know what, I don't care. It's not my business. I'm getting paid to track the husband so I'm tracking the husband. He'll make a mistake at some point. Or she will.”

She looked up at her husband. “So what's for dinner tonight?”

“Your favourite,” Bram said. 

“Mabie's apple pie ala mode?” Abbie asked.

“Your _absolute_ favourite,” he amended.

Abbie's eyes lit up. “Kumo Sushi?” She narrowed her eyes when he smiled. “What's the occasion? It's not our anniversary. It's not my birthday…”

She walked with him to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. He seated himself across from her. “Remember that auntie that passed away? One that require me to be married in order to inherit?”

Abbie nodded. 

“They finally managed to consolidate everything and disperse what goes to whom,” Bram said. When Abbie blinked at him slowly, he sighed. “We're wealthy darling… do you have any idea how much money she left me, just in cash alone?”

Abbie mixed her wasabi and soy sauce with a piece of nagiri as she shrugged. “A million dollars?” she asked as she plopped the nagiri salmon into her mouth. She almost laughed when Bram face palmed and sighed. “What? To me that's more than I could spend in a lifetime.”

“Add a few zeros darling,” Bram groaned.

Abbie slowly chewed in silence then answered, “A hundred million dollars?”

Bram stared at her. “Yes, Abbie, a hundred million dollars,” he deadpanned. “It will be transferred into our bank account tomorrow, I did not wish for you to be caught unawares.”

Abbie could feel her stomach clench. That was a lot of money from her perspective. Although it was nowhere near the amount she knew existed somewhere in a different account. She knew the account existed she just didn't know where and how to find proof of it. 

_“Obviously my husband and your wife are very shitty people that deserve something shitty to happen to them,” Abbie said. “Your wife is a gold-digging whore. My husband is a gold possessing whore.”_

_Ichabod sat back in his seat brows raising curiously. “I'm listening.”_

_“What if we could work together to make sure neither one of them has what they want most?” Abbie suggested. She walked two fingers across the table and snag one of his fries. “But it would require you to be a little sneaky.”_

_She dipped the fry in his gravy and then popped it into her mouth. The contrast of the seasoning on the fries and the flavor of the gravy was surprisingly good._

_The moment Ichabod smiled she knew he was going to help._

The thought of leaving both Katrina and Bram high and dry was very appealing right now. But as it stood, even if Abbie managed to get the settlement the prenup would get her, that still left Bram with a nice cushion to fall back on. Albeit, it would not be what he was accustomed to, it was still well above what he deserved.

That's where Ichabod came in. 

Apparently he and Katrina had a legally binding agreement on record, that if it was discovered she committed adultery again, he would be compensated with a nice fat settlement as well, if divorce occurred.

As everything they possessed was in Ichabod’s name, Katrina had no real assets of her own--by her design, which in most cases, was really fucking intelligent on her part. Of course the money would have to come from _somewhere_ if she didn't want to get into further legal problems.

The big question mark would be whether Bram would bail Katrina out of her situation. Either way fun would be had by all and the resulting drama would be epic. Abbie would be content leaving Bram with a cushion if it meant watching the other woman descend into a complete and utter meltdown as she got dragged away to jail.

“We're not going to have to move to England are we?” Abbie asked. At this point she was just playing dumb. But, hey, her husband thought she was a complete fucking idiot so be it at this point. 

Ichabod had said that was always Bram’s weak point. Bram always immediately thought if you were poor or you were a woman you were immediately dumber than him, and she was both. While Abbie would never claim to be _poor_ , in her husband's eyes she was. 

After three years of her being proud of banking 100k with her private investigator business after taxes and overhead, while he gave a snide “That's all,” was testament to that.

“A hundred million dollars is enough to move back to England and live at the estate,” Bram replied after a moment. “If you would like. It's more than enough to have a life of ease and luxury. You needn't ever worry about anything ever again.”

_A few billion… with a B._

Abbie shifted in her seat. What was Bram playing at? Was he trying to slowly introduce the concept of being stupidly wealthy to make her comfortable with it? Why would he do something like that when he was having an affair? Didn't he plan on leaving her for the other woman? Wasn't that usually how this kind of thing played out?

“I don't know,” Abbie said hesitantly. She remembered the estate from the one time she visited it before they got married. It was huge and sprawling and took up several acres. It required an almost constant staff to keep it up. “I love this house. I love Sleepy Hollow. Can't we just stay here and hold on to the money? Maybe become the sort of people that leave waitresses thousand-dollar tips?”

Bram's eyes softened and he smiled. “That's why I love you,” he said gently. “Sometimes I get so caught up in everything that I forget… you have such a beautiful heart.” He nodded. “We could stay here. It's our money we can do whatever we please with it.”

Abbie cracked a smile and pointed at him. “No boats,” she teased. 

Bram grinned and chuckled. “I assure you that once was a random occurrence. I am an excellent ship captain.” Abbie cocked her head, still smiling. “It was!”

“Was it? Was it really Bram?”

He reached across the table and rested his hand over hers. Abbie fought the urge to pull her hand away. Her mind was screaming, _how dare he touch me like that after being with her_?

“Although, as long as you don't do what you were doing when I wrecked the boat last time, I don't see how it will be a problem,” Bram leared.

That actually made Abbie laugh for real as she recalled the memory. Their sneaking out to take an afternoon boat ride to relieve some stress, Bram crashing it into the dock when they were returning… her fault, sort of, yes. 

“I don't think that will be a problem,” Abbie said. “We gettin’ old babe, I don't know if I can contort that way anymore.”

Bram gave her a small pout. “No shame in trying. Bare in mind, the educational system in England is well ahead of the US… for our children…”

Abbie felt her heart ache a little. It felt like he was secretly mocking her and everything they had been wanting the last four years. But at the same time, he sounded sincere. Was the fling with Katrina just that? A fling? Something to get out of his--

_No_ , Abbie told herself. She wasn't about to make excuses for him. She wasn't going to be one of those women that turned a blind eye to her husband having a string of affairs. She refused to see her husband's face on children she hadn't bore. No amount of money was worth that kind of heart ache.

Bram squeezed her hand gently. “That is still something you want? Isn't it?”

Abbie nodded and almost let herself cry. But thankfully she was all cried out from earlier. “Of course it is, babe.”

_Just not with your lying ass_.


End file.
